


The Model Life

by Marashete



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 04:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11936325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marashete/pseuds/Marashete
Summary: Tony was good at pictures, bad at people. Bruce wasn't much better.





	The Model Life

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I've been dead for a while, but here, have a one-shot.

Models: not Tony Stark's strong suit. People just didn't click with him the way they did for others.

Cigarette dangling from his lower lip, he settled into the next pose, a mopey-teenager slump completed by lose limbs and averted gazes. He bet on black and white, too.

His waterline was darkened with the barest hint of kohl and shadow; He felt the rest of him that knew social suicide shiver in anticipation for the publication of these photos. He'd done it before, of course. Semi-nudes (and he had great abs, fantastic arms, and a back everyone with eyes and a sex-drive wanted to lick) led to notes stuffed into his locker and phallic shapes drawn on his books by jealous testosterone-sacks. Pardon the penis pun. So, really, when he was asked to model with someone instead of flying solo, this scruffy smoker who had hair like god plucked storm clouds out of the sky wasn't who he pictured. A busty chick? Sure; it was lad mag city. This scrawny twink? He at least better be good with his full, pouty lips.

Turns out, the kid can pose. His body was lean and the flex of his arms against the sleeve of his startlingly tight black tee is distracting enough that the appraising gaze Tony gave him didn't translate well to the lens. Naturally, the photo was shit so he tried a different approach. There was a careful arrangement of limbs and Tony's hand was in Bruce's hair, Bruce's own at his jaw, and suddenly it was a brawl scene straight out of Grease, straddling legs and careful, awkward teen grappling. Banner's eyes were wide, brown and confused until they were wide, brown, and confident. His body twisted, serpentine, and he was behind Tony, hand around his throat (oh so fucking gentle, just squeeze harder, he's not that fragile) and Tony was left staring up at the camera, exposed, while Banner stared confidently ahead. The reel was perfect. Tony tracked the transition, the role-flip, and didn't see the story, but saw the crawl from Banner learning his game, to Banner making Tony play one of his own design. And he fell for it, one rung deeper.

_Modeling_ , rather, was one of Tony's strong suits (of which he had many, many suits). He didn't have much care for big name photographers who just sold skin (honestly though, he was sort of a whore so it didn't make much of a personal difference, anyway) and as such, didn't have the patience to model exposed spreads all too often. This kid, though, had no shame. And his body was hellatiously built--lean, not bulky, but hard-muscled and strong thighed. He watched Banner bend into the next shot and leaned in to one of the publicists to murmur, "I better be the focus in this spread."

The next few photos were of he and Bruce: Banner's fingers unlaced his tie and then skimmed down his shirt and magicked the buttons undone. Tony gave a few shots of his eyes, dilated wide, after that. Banner chuckled softly as the shoot drew to a close, and his voice was chocolate-smooth and dangerous as he murmured, "Coffee?" Tony, like any hot-blooded person with a sex-drive for these sorts of people, agreed to coffee. Which, against the usual implication of 'coffee' when sent his way, literally meant a cup of coffee. Banner looked good in a sweater, which was unfortunate, because of all the things that made Tony weak-at-the-knees, Banner picked the biggest one, coupled with glasses and a scarf. He didn't know what to do with the careful way Banner walked, the way his fingers wound nervous circles around each other, the calculated stretch of his lips over his teeth in a smile as Tony spoke. Tony loathed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Ah, shit, I realized I shifted tenses. I'll change it eventually. This is, obviously, unbetad, so anything you spot please point out! Ty loves <3


End file.
